


matters of the heart

by pomegrapples



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Childhood Memories, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, lavi hates war! shocker, moments from the anime but i hyperfocus on lavi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomegrapples/pseuds/pomegrapples
Summary: Alternatively titled: the five times Lavi cared about people.
Kudos: 8





	1. THE DAY THE WORLD DIED

**Author's Note:**

> so listen i'm a sucker for character analysis and i've been in love w dgm for 10 years now this was absolutely bound to happen

He was merely eight years old the first time a girl the same age as him had her heart set on befriending him. It wasn't hard at first, although this alias was much more difficult to remember compared to his last. Merely a week before it had been Fredrick. It isn't _Lavi_ until years later, no. She called him _Sam_ , a little whistle coming through on the 's'. She was missing a front tooth, and it made him beam in turn to see such a goofy smile. That was the act he'd been taught, Bookman insisting that they must remain a passive viewer of the war. Constant reminders that the town was going to get destroyed the next day kept him on his toes. Sam knew how this went already, having seen it happen to the past three towns. He respectfully reminded his mentor of such each time, only earning a grunt in response. 

Passive viewers, recording the history that was soon to befall them all. They still needed people to enjoy their company enough not to throw them out, so Sam acted. And acted, and acted. The little girl eventually gave him her name during some chatter about the flowers nearby. It was Lilah and for as much as he thought it merely a part of his near perfect memory, the name stuck. Lilah was chatty, talking about her doll or occasionally about the mud pie she and her two brothers had made the other day. But that had to be a secret between the two of them, she'd told Sam. Sam had merely nodded, locking his lips with an imaginary key and smiling as she giggled at him.

It was easy to fake a laugh, run around and make her feel less alone. They never had much time left by the time help could finally reach them, only for units upon units to fall. The carnage lasted for months, the blood soaked the soil so nothing would grow. Sam didn't feel as much remorse as he should’ve, his mentor's guiding hand keeping such thoughts from coming through. Humanity was bound to destroy itself, crumble under its own stupidity. He'd understood that. For so long, all the way from record three to forty-eight this had been the way it was. Thinking of war as a worthless and pointless endeavor if all they would do was continue to fail and die was natural, but it blossomed further into hating humanity for falling into the same trap. Over, and over and over. There was never a time where they didn't fall into the same damned pattern. Maybe it was deserved at this point.

Towns were destroyed in a matter of hours due to their failure. This one in particular had only taken four, Sam walking along the aftermath next to Bookman like it was nothing. No one was around to keep up the act for, not anymore. They were all under rubble. The neutral expression he wore like armor didn't crack upon seeing that same doll Lilah always spoke about, walked around with like it was her most prized possession. Because it _was_ her most prized possession, but it was time for them to move on. Bookman had told him that this was an endless cycle, but one of great importance. Sam worked hard not to let his disgust show, but Sam eventually fell away into Robin and it began anew.


	2. THE REFLECTION BALANCED

Aliases were cycled through with each record another twenty-eight times. The most recent, Deak, lasted half a year. The forty-ninth alias is Lavi, a new and sudden shift but a change he knew should've been simple enough to accept after having done this for nearly his entire life by now. War after war, faces that all eventually fell away when they had no impact on the result of it. Now they were siding with the Exorcists, viewing what was most likely going to end up being the losing side. It wasn’t uncommon, but it was always particularly gruesome this way.

In all of his training, things had only gotten easier to accept. The horror never truly disappeared completely, but this was the life of a Bookman. Grim tales that needed to be heard and recorded no matter the cost to anyone. It had been this way for so long, acceptance and bitterness were just simpler reactions. He had a duty to record history along with his mentor and continue learning. It would always be the path to follow, no forks or branching paths in sight.

Having been with the Black Order for two years, the name still fit in a strange way. Comfortable, but pushing the limits of connection. A Finder had so easily noticed the reflection of his eyes, how nothing truly came through. The act was a simple one, it shouldn't have been surprising that someone saw through it, but it only made Lavi work harder. Earning his trust had been easy enough after the mission came to a close, and they parted on better terms. 

His name had been Doug. Even with an eidetic memory, the name wouldn't leave him. The man was kind, understood and respected his own work on a level few humans did. It was easy to admire such a person, especially whenever there was a chance to tease him for simpler things. He cared, a heart big enough to shine even in such a heavy darkness. The Finder was someone to emulate, someone Lavi almost wished he could be. Maybe he was the closest to who the redhead was originally _was_. 

It was easier to think of who he now was, the duty placed upon his shoulders. He wasn't even Lavi, but a Bookman. That was how it was supposed to be, a twist of fate on that first day of training. With such thoughts swimming, he almost didn't hear the crash from the hall. Almost. 

The Order usually had _something_ happening within its halls, but this was... concerning. Following the noise, he quickly had that concern validated. Blood pooled on the floor, an emerald eye widened despite himself. A handful of Finders, all dead. Other members of the Order filtered in slowly, the gasps of horror convincing him to move. Gently, he felt for a pulse on the closest body. There was nothing. In almost a haze of sorts, he barked for the others to inform Komui.

_Doug_. A voice that was barely there, coming from one of the Finders on the group. He was choking on his own blood, but it was enough. He paused, remaining for the man's final moments before moving to close his eyes. That had been service enough, they had earned a final rest. With a new goal set, he felt his breath rattle from his lungs. Maybe he was dead as well, just off somewhere else. The path of bloody footprints told enough to validate the dread boiling in his stomach. 

He set off, unease creeping into his heart. The marks on the bodies had to have been caused by an Akuma, but they couldn't enter the Order. Not unless they took the boats. Lavi, voice as stable as he could manage, called for the Finder as he reached the door. They had become a family, but the cruelties of the world and the Earl were never too far off to remind him why exactly such ideas were foolish.

Doug's voice was off, the way he held himself was entirely wrong. That was no longer his friend, but the same monster he was supposed to kill. He could feel the lump form in his throat, hand closing into a fist. This was his duty, both as a Bookman as well as an Exorcist. There was no more Doug left, only a tortured soul in need of relief. An end to the constant and vicious cycle. 

It wasn't until Bookman spoke in his mind that the redhead managed to move. Even if his hands shook and his voice was nowhere near as strong as he needed, the deed would be done. It was his duty, nothing more. Doug was another pawn spent. It would end, as all things had. The disgusting feeling wrenching at his heart would leave him empty, but it would eventually leave him. The tears streaming across his cheeks, almost mistaken for blood at first, would end as well. As all things must. 


	3. THE CLOCK STARTED TICKING

The transition from Deak to Lavi was simpler now. Doug had been a stark reminder of how much he had been slipping, how he needed to do better. Even with the pain that reared its ugly head at the thought of the Finder, it stabilized an act he had been steadily putting less and less effort into every day. It reminded him that yes, most people deserved to feel a thing or two every once in a while. Even if that didn’t necessarily include him, it could include Lavi. It _had_ to include Lavi, emulating the truth and genuine feelings of a brother-like figure. The caring, the warmth in his tone.

But today wasn’t about Doug, nor was it about _Lavi_. 

Komui Lee, the head of this particular branch, was nice enough. His tone was slightly off and the worry in his eyes wasn't hidden from either of the Bookmen, but he still spoke kindly. It still led to them being quickly informed about the most recent battle their new team had been in. Lavi merely nodded along as his mentor asked about meeting up with them sooner rather than later. Impatient old panda, but that was no surprise. Seeing them at their lowest was bound to be a detail to be transcribed as well at the end of the day. This was the goal of the 49th record.

The act returned as simple as ever upon meeting a boy named Allen, knowing that Bookman had a particular interest in this one. It was only easy for so long though, much to his horror. Ignoring the twinge in his chest upon hearing that all of them were still barely teenagers should never be difficult, and yet it was. They were just kids and fighting in a war set on taking every single ounce of strength from them only to leave them with nothing. The ache was unmistakable and yet a Bookman would never need a heart. It wouldn't be required for recording history, he knew that from the time he was eight and yet... 

It would be later into the night, once they had returned to hanging behind the rest of the group, that his mentor once again reminded him to ignore anything he may feel toward the team. Maybe the pain in his eye had shown too clearly for such a sharp gaze, the slight wince that Lavi had been so certain was invisible shining through. Seeing blood pool from their wounds and being unable to stop surfacing memories of a little girl, buried under rubble with a treasured doll that had never been completely shaken from his memory. Or the agonizing scream of someone who was almost a friend, unable to stop nor save himself from fate. He'd do better next time. 


	4. THE SEA TORE THE HEART

Finding Cross was a mission they all understood to be a difficult one. The general was known for his disappearing act, but the heavy casualties only wore down on those remaining. Losing sight of what was an act and what had been done in earnest never helped to ease a single nerve, but breaking a window had been an unexpected hiccup. A telling sign that this wasn't an act anymore, that he'd gone and gotten himself invested. That Allen's supposed death was enough to affect him to some level. Lashing out at Lenalee for blaming herself was unnecessary, but something he couldn't take back all the same. The guilt still lasted longer than he would be willing to admit. 

Trying to deny caring about these people was simply lying now. Lavi knew as much, knew that this would only break whatever form of a heart he'd somehow managed to sneak in. Parasite types only lived to thirty if they were lucky and most exorcists met terrible fates before most even got close to that point. How many times had he watched as they desperately spent the last sliver of their strength? All just to win a war that was impossible, one that was harsh and uncaring towards everyone involved. 

People that weren't just a side of history anymore, these were people who had grown around him like vines. Friends that he wasn't technically allowed to have. Bookman was quick to express his disappointment, grabbing him by the ear and making a show of it in front of the captain. It was better to apologize and let himself be dragged off, and so he did. 

It was well deserved for enacting such a show.

The fight should have been lost once the level 3 made an appearance. Appearing behind him, distracting him, tossing him into the mast hard enough to keep him down. It was a good strategy, but one that almost took him out for good. There were others above the clouds, sitting in wait for the moment to strike. Lavi knew it was going to be bad, knew that nothing good would come of any of it. He would've been killed if not for Miranda's abilities to freeze their bodies. Yet the Akuma was cunning, dragging Bookman into the air and luring them away from the boat. Her power only reached so far, a limit that he was quick to learn the moment he extended his hammer too far. 

He felt blood trickle down the side of his face, soak through his bandana and cloud part of his vision as the pain ebbed back into focus. _How the hell did it know to do that?_

The thought was stopped by Lenalee, who easily rose even further above and insisted they fall back. All he could do was sit there for another moment, wanting to argue but knowing that they were going to be useless like this. He needed to get Bookman back on the ship, the crew would need protection. Even knowing as much, the sinking feeling of regret instantly caught and latched onto his stomach. Sharp and painful, he forced himself to bite his tongue and shrink the hammer back down. 

Reassuring Krory and the others helped. Optimism was going to keep him fighting much longer, as would trusting Lenalee's abilities. She was strong, he'd know that for so long and yet he still worried. This was the life of an exorcist, pushing their own limits daily. Even trying to focus on the combat in front of him, to ignore the constant stream of worry, a shot managed to get through and smack him off the side of the ship. Lavi didn't have time to yell, not even as the ice cold water enveloped around him. The virus chilled his veins, matching the water surrounding him for only a moment. Krory had been paying better attention, fangs sinking into his neck to pull the virus out and hauling him back onto the boat. He coughed and sputtered, panicked for a moment before his mentor called for his focus once more. The battle needed to end, and Wood Seal could tear through their advantage. 

It wasn't until the Akuma were completely taken care of that their eyes were drawn to a strange light in the direction Lenalee had gone. The same feeling from before was quick to return, only this time Lavi didn't have any way to quell it. Bookman was disappointed, but Lenalee had been gone for so long. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if she was lost too. 

He was the first to move, hammer prepared to send him off before the crew piled together to stop him. For the second time on the trip, he lashed out. The guilt was instant, having the courtesy to duck his head. He still stood strong, getting away from the grasp of the ship's crew and heading off to find Lenalee. Lavi knew the wounds would return once more, but exorcists pushed themselves. That was what he was now, wasn't it? What kind of Bookman had a heart?


	5. THE HIDDEN ROAD REVEALED

The world was collapsing around them. Tyki wanted to talk, make everything into a game but they were out of time. The arc was finished, and they all would follow close behind if he kept speaking. Even Lenalee was at her limit, a single green eye glancing at her for a moment. She was shaking, panicked and most likely worried for the people they left behind. The sight easily twisted at his heart as he leaned over to squeeze her hand. A gentle reminder that they were giving it their all, and that things would be alright. A reminder to have faith for a little while longer.

It eventually led to Tyki dropping a concerning bit of information that he hadn't known before, but the interest was quickly tucked away once a voice other than his own echoed in his head. _Have you recorded it yet, Bookman?_ He gasped, eye landing on Road once more as the conversation continued. He was simply given a wink, coy and terrifying all the same. Allen suddenly sprung into action, running on the table to get to Tyki and pulling Lavi out of his thoughts. Instantly, worry washed over him like a bucket of ice. A part of him wanted to run after him and join the fight as well, but Road wasn’t done.

She trapped the others in a box, causing him to grit his teeth. A deal would be made for their safety, which he was certain Road had already suspected going into this. The game brought him into a different... dimension? No, not a different dimension. An illusion, perhaps. Road was no help, even as he lightly bopped his hammer against her head a few times. It felt like whack-a-mole with her sticking out of the floor, but the distraction was over the moment she mentioned a different opponent. He swung around, hammer smacking flat onto the ground before he realized what he was facing. 

The same clothes he had worn under a former alias, no bandana or uniform in sight. It was himself, or _Deak_ as it’d been at the time. Looking at his own eye in turn, lifeless in every way, he nearly shivered. Even his own voice sounded tired in a way that sent a chill down his spine. Attempting to attack once more did nothing. Fire Seal wasn't a thing known to his former self, the other version of himself insisting that it did not exist here. All he could do was merely watch in horror as Iron Hammer crumbled into ash and a sinking feeling clawed it's way through him. 

For a moment, it fell quiet. The sound of the boat moving across the water was peaceful, leaving him to wonder about the strange feeling clutching at his chest. It was almost painful, but easily ignored until Bookman caught his attention. _Deak_. He was disappointed that Lavi hadn't stuck completely yet, but he was quick to attempt to reassure the old panda. A refresher on the mission helped, nodding along before it struck him what this truly was. This was a mere memory, all a part of Road's illusion. He wasn't going to be tricked, insisting as such to the illusion of Bookman in front of him. 

The confidence faded once he was faced with himself yet again. Insistence that he survived so long without caring, without risking such things over people history would merely forget. Bookmen recorded the history that the rest of the world would never remember, including the people involved. It wasn't easy to try to rationalize, and it only grew harder as a coffin floated alongside the boat. Inside was Lenalee, pale and bloodied. The panic rose once more, eye widening before he jumped into the water. Bookman and his other self are ignored, brushed off despite their insistence that this was his punishment. To care, to no longer be a simple spectator as he had previously been. Surviving was easier that way, but things changed. This was off the beaten path.

_She's nothing more than a piece of history, isn't she?_ Coffins piled up around him, an endless sea replacing the river. No more boat, only Lenalee's body in his arms. One of the coffins housed Allen, lifeless with his eyes closed. Another held Krory, Kanda, Miranda, Komui. It didn't end, all of the people who he had now called a friend. Friends that had made him smile, made the lies fall away into something entirely genuine. The care, the dull ache in his heart at seeing any of them fall in combat. 

Everyone rose from their graves, calling out his name. Lavi felt his heart spike, clutching at his head. It was an illusion, all of it was an illusion. The blood around their eyes, cuts that were certainly fatal. Bookman confirmed that they were indeed all illusions, doubling down on how ridiculous this all had to be. He managed to joke about how much time his mentor spent speaking at him in turn, but the humour in his voice died out halfway through the sentence. 

In seconds, they all began their attacks. He dodged to the left, narrowly avoiding the swing of Lenalee's dagger before jumping away from the arc of Mugen swiping through the air to the right. He took a sharp breath, barely having enough time to close his eye and make his own attack before another was thrown at him. Komui, this time. He imagined a knife in his hand, slashing out in the direction of the illusions. The only way out was to tear through, and so he would. 

Don't listen, block it out, strike, dodge, repeat. 

The wave eventually stopped after another memory flashed before his eye, no more bodies in sight other than a vision reflecting himself. Deak returned to taunting, poking and prodding at the fact that caring for them meant he was no longer a passive viewer. There was a bias now, one that he had been sworn to never develop in the first place. This had been his major test from Bookman, and he had failed.

He fell to his knees in the water, gripping at his head. It hurt now more than ever, the dagger still clenched in a fist. The smile wasn’t fake anymore, not for them. The act had been dropped so long ago without Lavi even realizing it. He felt the card flutter out of his pocket before he saw it, the ace of spades drifting on the water for a moment before Allen picked it up. He hadn’t told Bookman he kept the card, hoping his friend would return. A friend they had been told was dead. _Fire Seal!_

It struck Allen down right in front of him, the boy crumpling into a heap in the water. All Lavi could do was stare in horror, entire body shaking as he tried to regain any sort of composure. His own voice, his _own body_ next to him, mocked his horror. Bookmen had no need for comrades, after all. There was nothing left, not as his breath hitched. Not as he began to hyperventilate. Kanda and Lenalee approached once more, weapons drawn and he refused to move. They both sunk their blades into his torso, causing a surge of blood to splatter around his mouth. His consciousness slowly faded, the world turning black once more. _You’re a failure of a Bookman, Lavi_.


	6. THE DAY IT ALL CAVED IN

Battlefields looked the same. Even in the dark when blood turned black, it seldom changed. The ache of scars; of former burns and remembrance of broken bones. It remained the same as ever, it caused his muscles to ache in new ways that continued to surprise him. His breath was ragged, stressing and straining to push himself further. Another swing, another attempt at fighting a war that he was never supposed to be a part of in the first place.

What did change was almost laughably simple: the rapidly growing exhaustion, fading away from it all only to wake up with a fever, the group now standing before him. Although being unafraid in the face of so many Noah was not even _close_ to a new trick. Lavi had been tempted to spit in their faces in the past, and that temptation only grew now. Even in the foggy view that he currently held over the room the opportunity seemed deceptively simple, yet his tongue was held.

His eye could barely hold itself open, his breath labored. It was the same parasite they discussed so flippantly, taking over his own systems so easily. Everything burned uncomfortably, his vision swam in and out of focus. It was going to kill him sooner rather than later, as it was intended to in the first place. The fragility of humanity-- a scathing thought in a bitter moment, but entirely truthful. 

Then there was anger, a rage behind Sheril's tone that the exorcist didn't entirely hear. In a flash, that anger was lashed at him. His body flung from the chair like a doll, slamming into the concrete behind him. The pain was a bright flash, the air pushing itself from his lungs before it turned into a scream of pain. Even through gritted teeth, biting back every bit of pain that he could, the redhead was quick to remind his mentor to tell them _nothing_. They would get nothing of him, nothing of Allen. The knowledge they carried was too delicate, it was worth far more than his own comfort or even his life.

Lavi would die. He would die, over and over again. As many times as needed, or even for an eternity. This wasn't the path Bookman had planned. It wasn't what was supposed to come of his final successor, but they were running out of options. Even if he didn't fully understand, Lavi _knew_ this information was supposed to be played close to their chests. And so there it would stay, even as the force behind Sheril's ability worked to cave that same chest in on itself. He would die. Not as a Bookman or an Exorcist, but as _Lavi_. He would die as a better person, one working to protect his friends.

He would die with tears in his eyes.


End file.
